


Space Oddity

by FayJay



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-04
Updated: 2009-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayJay/pseuds/FayJay





	1. Chapter 1

Clark was trying to take his punishment like a man, but it was kind of difficult to be macho with all this cream on his face. And he was starting to find it really, really difficult to pretend that Chloe wasn't standing between his legs with her, her - well, her breasts (and his pants felt tighter just thinking the word) practically shoved in his face.

"Chloe, do I really have to - ?" he began without very much hope, shifting around in his perch on the arm of the couch. If she realised that he was getting a little inappropriately excited here, Clark was going to have to commit ritual suicide. Although he wasn't entirely clear on how he would manage it - maybe try sucking on a meteor rock, or something like that. Although sucking was probably not a helpful verb right now.

"Clark! Ssh! Which part of 'keep still' is it that you didn't understand? You'll ruin everything if you keep moving like this." Familiar Chloe-voice, all impatience and efficiency; and the look on her face was the kind of earnest concentration he was used to seeing when she was searching for a perfect headline. Professional. Dispassionate. But he couldn't help noticing that she was breathing kind of faster than normal. Not panting, exactly, but certainly breathing faster than normal. And he didn't think that the blush staining her cheeks had been painted on. "Nearly finished with the moisturiser," she assured him.

Really, it wasn't his fault. He was a teenage boy, after all; and although he didn't normally think about Chloe like this, he also didn't normally have Chloe standing between his parted thighs wearing a tight little top with (he was pretty sure about this, although he hadn't actually done the X ray vision thing) no bra underneath it, while she smoothed this cool creamy stuff slowly over his face. He didn't see why Chloe couldn't have let him put the moisturiser on himself, because, really, how difficult could it be? But she'd been pretty insistent; and after the first rush of embarrassment he realised that the pressure of her fingertips smearing the unscented lotion across the planes of his face was something he could learn to like. A lot. He was surprised it took so long to get it right, though; Clark would have expected the stuff to be rubbed in thoroughly by now, but Chloe kept right on stroking his cheeks and chin and running her hands over his temples and throat. It was incredibly intimate, but Clark reminded himself that this was only like having somebody wash your hair at the barber shop. It didn't mean anything.

He was really pretty certain about there not being any bra. Um. This was probably a good time to start thinking about Neitzche. Or - or something unsexy, anyway. Damn. Cold water. The Pope. Principal Kwan.

"Right," Chloe said, and he realised he was staring at her chest again. Oops. Eyes, Clark, look at her eyes. "I'm just going to put on a little bit of foundation, okay?" He nodded. It wasn't exactly okay, of course; having Chloe make him up like something from the 1970s was hardly at the top of his list of fun things to do on a school night, but he did owe her. He'd ruined her project and the deadline was 9am, so there was no way he could wriggle out of doing the decent thing. And besides, he was trying really hard to be nice to Chloe lately, because he knew that she wanted him to ask her to the prom; and she knew that he knew; and he knew that she knew that he knew; and boy, thinking about this was making him dizzy - but Clark still hadn't asked her. But he did at least have the grace to feel kind of guilty about it, especially when she'd stopped even dropping any more hints and just started looking kind of sad.

Clark watched Chloe squeeze gloopey pink stuff onto a spongey thing and tried not to flinch as it swooped towards his face. It wasn't so different from having your face painted at Halloween, he told himself desperately. Other than the breasts.

So, Principal Kwan. Right.

Chloe swept the sponge over his skin in quick strokes, scanning his face critically. When she ducked down to get some new stuff from her little bag he got a sudden flash of cleavage that really didn't do his self-control any good at all. Damn.

Somewhere along the line Chloe had turned into a girl, and Clark was having definite problems getting his head around this notion. His penis, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly on board with the idea and all kinds of happy about it.

And right now Chloe was kneeling down between his legs. He stared at the ridiculously flippy mass of blonde hair bobbing around inches from his crotch as she fumbled around in the bag, and scrabbled for unsexy thoughts. How ever does she get her hair like that, Clark asked himself, clutching at straws. Flashing on "There's Something About Mary", however, was really not helping with easing the pressure in his pants. Damn. Damn. Damn.

"Here, Clark, would you hold these?" He very nearly fell over backwards when she reached up without looking and balanced a couple of shiny containers on his taut thigh. Incredible strength notwithstanding, Clark had never yet actually ripped through any fabric with force of his erection. There was always a first time for everything, though; and Chloe's fingers brushing him right there was dangerously close to being reason enough.

Fingers. Right there.

Principal Kwan. Think about Principal Kwan. The Pope. Cold water. Although cold water just reminded him of pulling Lex out of the river that day and that really wasn't helping to reduce his arousal one little bit. He shivered.

Lex.

"Close your eyes, Clark," said Chloe briskly as she rose to her feet once more, brandishing what looked like the world's biggest paint brush. She pushed his legs further apart and reached down for the silvery compact that he was trying not to crush into his thigh. "Clark? You can let go of this now. It works better if I can actually open it, you know?" Oh, God. He really was the world's biggest idiot; and - please God - was it somehow possible that she hadn't noticed? Because right now he felt like people in other countries must be aware of the bulge in his pants. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so embarrassed. Chloe's body was less than an inch away from his. He could smell her light perfume and feel the warmth of her body; and if she leaned forward just the tiniest bit further, then her breasts (he was quite sure about the lack of bra) would be brushing against his T shirt. This was like some elaborate type of torture. Some really good elaborate type of torture that was going to be featuring in his jacking off fantasies for the foreseeable future. Although there would be less clothing and more touching and - and these were not helpful thoughts to be having. No sir.

He closed his eyes and felt the ticklish sensation of the fat brush slithering over his skin. It was way softer than he'd expected - like being stroked with feathers. Long, lingering strokes that caressed the planes of his face and made him shiver. And girls did this every day? He'd had no idea it was so - well, so sexy. (He hadn't really just had that thought. No way had he just had that thought.) The brush swirled playfully over his throat, his chin, his lips - and suddenly he found himself sneezing from a noseful of powder and rocking forward across that little innocent inch of air so that for an instant he brushed up against Chloe and every single nerve ending lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree.

Clark's eyes snapped open and he glanced to one side in horror before darting a mortified look up at Chloe. Surely she couldn't have helped noticing that? Her eyes met his for the briefest moment and then slid away quickly, and he was pretty darned sure that she was blushing now.

"Hold this." He took the brush and the compact automatically in one large hand. Okay, so either she hadn't noticed or she was just going to pretend it hadn't happened. Like the not-asking-her-to-the-prom thing. Which was cool. Denial was a good thing. Clark liked denial. "Now, look down. I'm going to draw on your eyes, so don't jump when you feel the pencil, okay? It won't hurt."

Looking down, unfortunately, pretty much meant looking at Chloe's breasts. Which was not such a bad thing, now that he came to think of it; how often was a guy actually told to look at somebody's breasts? But on the other hand it really wasn't doing his self control any good at all. Really, if he'd had any suspicion that accidentally crushing that floppy disk would result in being pinned to the sofa in his Fortress of Solitude and covered in makeup for Chloe's dumb project, he would have been a heck of a lot more careful.

"I still don't see what this has to do with Shakespeare," he said. And he realised immediately that he sounded like a whiney kid; but he was just trying very hard to think of things that weren't sexy, and dead old English guys were pretty high on the list. He felt the pencil dragging the soft skin of his eyelids and it was a strange sensation, but not at all unpleasant. Weirdly sexy, in fact. God, he was finding everything sexy right now. If Principal Kwan walked in Clark would probably think he was the most erotic thing since - hello, Clark? Actively thinking of sexy things to measure sexiness against was not a good idea either.

He tried to banish the image of Lex and that damned water bottle, but without much success.

"Gender ambiguity, Clark," said Chloe cheerfully, although his ears did pick up a slight tremble in her voice that wasn't usually there. "And it's not just Shakespeare; I'm taking it from Shakespeare's sonnets through to the present day, citing Kurt Cobain and Brandon Teena. Did you know that 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day' was actually written to another guy? And in England they've just found a painting of Shakespeare's patron, the Earl of Southampton, wearing makeup and a dress."

"Mmph?" Somehow this wasn't helping to quell his erection at all. Neither was the scratchy pressure of the pencil on his other eyelid. "And all this leads to me in makeup because...?"

"Because I'm feeling mean. Come on, Clark. You said you'd help. Look up at me now." He glanced up suspiciously, wondering how damned silly he was looking by this point. "God, Clark. You have the most amazing eyelashes - that's so unfair. Mine are hardly visible at all without mascara and yours are just - that's so unfair. Really. You hardly need mascara. Hang on."

She ducked down to rummage in her bag once more and Clark stared desperately up at the roof of the barn. Astronomy. He could think about astronomy. What could be less sexy than astronomy? All that cold, empty space. Right. Good.

Chloe bounced back to her feet, brandishing another little jar and a different brush.

"Close your eyes, Clark. I should have done this before, I think. Um. Anyway, close your eyes and let me put this on them." He could do that. His eyebrows arched nervously as she smeared another substance over his shuttered lids and he tried to will his erection into receding without any notable success. Astronomy. Telescopes. Long, hard telescopes pointing straight up at - no, this really wasn't helping. "Okay, look at me again." He looked at Chloe and tried really very hard not to notice that her nipples were kind of sticking out now. "Jeez, Clark. You look like Theda Bara," she said with a breathless little catch in her voice.

"Is that good? Who's he? Are you laughing? Chloe, you promised you wouldn't laugh. I only agreed to help you if you swore on your life not to laugh."

"I'm not laughing," she protested, grinning at him with an odd glint in her eyes. "Don't pout. And yeah, that's good. You're - quite the vamp, Clark." He sat up straighter, wondering whether it was bad to feel smug about that. A vamp. Heh.

"Are we finished yet?"

"Not quite. Mascara, then lipstick, then photos, then you can go and wash your face and I can go and spend the rest of the night trying to remember exactly what I wrote before someone who shall remain nameless broke my freaking disk. And I still don't understand how you managed to do that, Clark."

"Mascara? Is that this one?" he said hurriedly, passing her a stick of black stuff. Preternatural strength was really not something he wanted to discuss with Chloe any time soon.

"Yeah. Getting into it now, are you?" She was grinning that irrepressible Chloe grin and Clark couldn't help grinning back, although he suspected that he should be denying that the makeup thing was anything other than a pain in the ass.

"Just trying to help you out, Chloe."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Don't worry, I won't tell Pete. Your secret's safe with me, buster."

It didn't take Chloe long to apply the mascara and Clark found it reassuringly unsexy to have the little wand pulling at his eyelashes. The lipstick, however, was another matter. He'd been expecting an actual stick, like the ones him mom used. Instead Chloe produced a little pot of red stuff and for some reason she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"I managed to lose the brush somewhere between my house and the barn," she said with exaggerated casualness, "so I'm going to have to use my finger, okay? So - so you'd really better stay still, Clark. I'll kill you if you make me smudge it." She was breathing kind of hard by now, and her jeans occasionally brushed against his crotch, which was driving Clark absolutely insane. But nothing had prepared him for the sensation of her slicked fingertip rubbing his mouth, and he made a small, strangled noise as she stroked his full bottom lip. "Pull your mouth wide, Clark, like this," she said, her voice wavering. Chloe opened her mouth to demonstrate, stretching her lips tightly over her teeth, and Clark looked at her tongue all wet and trembling inside her mouth and all he could think about was how easy it would be to lean forward a few inches to kiss her. And that kiss could lead to his hand inside her top, and maybe (he couldn't believe he was even thinking this, but the image just wouldn't go away now that it had lodged in his brain) just maybe Chloe's mouth wrapped around his cock.

Yeah. Right. In his dreams.

Although these days his dreams more often featured Lex Luthor, which was something he blamed on those damned water bottles. And on the feel of Lex's mouth under him on the riverbank. And - and none of this was helping to quell his erection in the slightest; but he was glad Lex had decided to stay in Smallville.

He pulled his lips back the way she'd showed him and was rewarded by Chloe's reddened finger spreading more of the bright gloss over his lips. And this was quite possibly the sexiest thing that he'd ever had done to him by another human being in his life. Sexier, somehow, than even Lana's kiss had been. Chloe's eyes were a little glazed as she stroked his mouth and this was also taking longer than he'd have expected it to, but that was just fine by Clark. His eyelids drooped slowly down and he gave himself up to the sensation, and hoped desperately that he wasn't going to actually come in his pants. Didn't dare move, because anything like rubbing against his erection was going to make the whole coming-in-his-pants thing entirely too possible.

With his eyes closed, of course, there wasn't the distraction of Chloe's lack of bra. On the other hand, with his eyes closed this languorous touch could be anybody's. Could be Lana, or - oh God - could even be Lex. Jesus. His eyes snapped open in pure embarrassment when an involuntary moan left his mouth, and he found Chloe looking quite as distracted as he was himself. She pulled her hand away as if burnt.

"Sorry," she muttered, blushing crimson, which was very un-Chloe-like. While Clark was trying to figure out what she was apologising for, Chloe ducked down to stuff the pots and brushes into her bag and stood up with her camera in hand.

"I - I really like that white T-shirt, Clark," she said breathlessly. "You should wear it more often."

"Mom bought it for me before the growth spurt," he explained, grateful for anything to take his mind off the raging hard-on that he was trying ineffectually to disguise. "It's kinda tight, but you said a white T-shirt and the other one was in the wash, and it does just about fit, so I figured it might be okay." Chloe made a muffled sound that was something like a laugh, but not quite.

"Yes," she agreed unsteadily. "It is quite tight. Um. Could you look into the camera? That's great."

Clark folded his hands over his erection as nonchalantly as he could manage and tried not to shudder too visibly at the contact while Chloe took photographs. Quite a lot of photographs, in fact.

"Chloe? You - you aren't thinking of using these to blackmail me for the rest of my life by any chance, are you?" he asked belatedly.

"Clark! Don't you trust me?" Which was an ambiguous reply.

"Um. Yes?"

"Good. Well, that's - um. That's great. Thanks." She looked at him like she wanted to say something else, but didn't. Clark had a feeling that something else needed to be said, or maybe done, but he couldn't think quite what it was. Because Chloe was being really good about not teasing him for his obvious erection (which she had to have noticed by now) and this was just all kinds of embarrassing. Hot, but embarrassing. Clark wished that he knew whether Chloe liked him. Probably not. But - maybe. Oh, God. Why wasn't he better at this? What would Pete do in this situation? Not that he could imagine Pete letting Chloe cover him in makeup - although, Christ, now he could. And it was actually kind of hot. Argh.

"Well, I'd better be going," Chloe said at last, looking vaguely disappointed.

"Yeah, that project won't rewrite itself."

"No," she agreed reluctantly. "Well, um. See you at school, I guess. And thanks again."

"No problem. Sorry about the disk."

And then Chloe was walking away with her bag and her camera, and Clark had this feeling that he'd messed something up; but he was very, very glad to have the place to himself, so he could lie back on the couch and unzip his jeans and let his cock finally come out to play in the happy knowledge that his Mom and Dad wouldn't be back from the Jacksons' for another hour or two.

Head right back and eyes closed and spine arched, one long leg stretching down to the floor and the other hanging over the end of the couch. Clark wriggled the jeans down over his hips and managed not to tear them in his haste (because clothes were expensive and money didn't grow on trees), and finally he let his erection nod up and out into the cool night air. Didn't actually touch it for a moment, because now that he finally could it was okay to drag things out that tiny bit more. He rested his palm flat on his belly until it became unbearable and then he wrapped long fingers around the heated flesh and pulled back his foreskin. Wetness was pulsing out of his cock and Clark needed to jack off right now or he might just die; and Chloe hadn't been wearing a bra; and he was wearing makeup, like, like he didn't know what - like some kind of pervert, or, or not a pervert, like David Bowie or those guys in that film Chloe had liked so much, "Velvet Something-or-other"; and actually they'd been pretty hot. Ewan MacGregor and some other guy. He ran his thumb around the leaking slit and rubbed some of the wetness down over his shaft, groaning softly. He'd fantasized about the guys in that film for weeks afterwards, and now the image of one of them, or both of them, or, or both of them and Chloe all licking his cock was - oh Christ.

This was the thing Clark didn't normally let himself think about in the daylight, when it was real, but it was nearly dark now, so that made it okay, didn't it? Okay to think about - men. Hard smooth torsos and arms and asses and mouths and cocks. His hand moved more quickly, buttocks clenching and unclenching and thighs rigid; everything concentrated on the tight, swollen pressure of his erection as he fucked his fist and thought about disembodied breasts and mouths and asses and hands and cocks. And Lex. Christ, Lex. It was always Lex, eventually. Naked. Lex naked and crouched between his thighs, licking his hipbones and his navel and then closing his mouth around the end of Clark's cock, and -

And there was somebody else in the barn.

Shit. Shit. What was the point of having superhuman hearing if your brain decided to just ignore it in favour of concentrating on jerk-off fantasies? Shit.

Clark opened his eyes very slowly, trying to figure who would be the least mortifying person to be caught by. Not Mom. Please God, not Mom. Or Chloe. Or -

Lex. Wearing an darkly iridescent top and black leather pants, for all the world like he'd stepped straight out of another of Clark's favourite jerk-off fantasies. Lex looking more than slightly stunned, with his blue eyes wide and his lips parted in a way that made Clark's cock jump. Lex, for once, totally speechless.

This would be an absolutely perfect moment for a meteorite to crash into the barn and kill them both. Shit. He was still clinging on to his erection like an idiot, as if it might just fall off without the protection of his fingers, and Lex was staring at it with the damnedest expression on his face - which did absolutely nothing to make it any softer. Damn. Superhuman speed was so not going to help him right now, not when he'd been well and truly seen. Clark moved at last, his whole body one horrified blush, and tucked himself back into his dishevelled clothing with some difficulty before swinging his feet back to the floor. He sat very stiffly on the far end of the couch, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him, or that he'd instantaneously develop the power of invisibility or teleportation. Could happen. Lex was openly staring at his hastily covered crotch, and that was both excruciatingly embarrassing and weirdly hot simultaneously. He darted a glance at Lex and saw an unreadable smile beginning to curve the very mouth that he'd been imagining so vividly only seconds ago.

"I - uh," said Clark intelligently. He tried again. "Uh. I didn't hear you come in. Um." Was Lex laughing at him?

"No. No, I rather got that impression," agreed Lex with the same catch in his voice that Chloe had had earlier - and really, short of some guy appearing with a camcorder and telling him he was going to be on America's Funniest Home Videos, Clark didn't think this could get much worse. He was squirming. And he was still hard as steel. And why was Lex still here?

"That was just - I was, um." Clark scrabbled for an explanation, but there was really, really no possible alternative to 'I was jerking off', so he said nothing. At least Lex didn't know what he'd been thinking of at the time.

"Yes. Yes, I rather got that impression too." And he was laughing. Damn. "I'll tell you a secret, Clark," said Lex with amusement, in a low-pitched voice that Clark hadn't heard before. "Everybody does it. Everybody. There's nothing to be ashamed about. Although perhaps you might want to stick to masturbating in places with lockable doors in the future, if you don't want to be caught - ah - in flagrante."

"I - um. Right," said Clark, staring at his shoes in pure humiliation. Lex was moving towards him very carefully, as if he were afraid that Clark might be easily startled into running away. Like the cautious way his dad approached a fractious beast in the field.

"Clark, you really are wearing makeup, aren't you?" Lex sounded almost dreamy as he drew closer to the couch. Clark had actually forgotten about the makeup in all the embarrassment of being caught with his pants down. Turned out there were extra layers of embarrassment that he'd managed to overlook.

"I - um. Yes. Yes. It was Chloe."

Lex sat on the couch very gently, and although they had been far closer than this before, it had never been at a moment when Lex had just seen his cock.

Lex had just seen his cock.

Clark closed his eyes and dragged in a lungful of air with a sudden hiss. He had a feeling that his erection might just be a permanent fixture from now on. And Lex was right there, within touching distance, wearing black leather pants that clung to his legs like something obscene and creaked faintly as he moved.

"It looks good on you," said Lex, and it took Clark a moment to realise he was referring to the make-up. "Really very - good. Jesus, Clark, you're just full of surprises, aren't you? Did you know that Achilles disguised himself as a girl when he was around your age? I always wondered how that must have looked." And he sounded - what? Amused, yes, but not unkindly so. Like he was laughing at himself instead of at Clark, but there was more to it than that. Clark shivered and before he could stop himself he asked:

"Do you?" Shit. He stared at his kneecaps as though they had the secrets of the universe inscribed upon them. This conversation was possible just so long as he didn't actually have to look at Lex. Who was wearing leather. Who should have to wear leather every day for the rest of his life, if Clark had any say in the matter.

"Do I what? Do I look good in make-up?" Lex sounded even more amused. And something else too, something that wasn't about amusement at all. Was Lex flirting? Clark drew in a deep breath.

"No. No. Do you - that." If he could do it, he could say it. "Jerk off." Ridiculously, uttering the words out loud actually made his cheeks burn even more. He felt so - dirty. God.

"Oh." There was an odd note in Lex's voice. "Yes. Yes, Clark, of course I do. Everyone does." And now he was back to sounding controlled and amused and older brotherish; but for a moment there Clark was sure that Lex hadn't been feeling brotherly at all.

"What do you think about?" asked Clark, astonished at his own daring.

"That's rather a personal question, Clark."

"I know." He probably fantasized about Victoria. But what if Lex was flirting? Clark often wondered about this, but generally dismissed it; because of Victoria, and because what on earth would Lex see in a geeky kid like him? But what if Lex wanted - oh, God. And there wouldn't be another opportunity like this, because everything was weird and the rules were different right now; because Lex had just seen his cock. "But this is kind of a personal moment, Lex. I mean, you saw me - you know." And his voice cracked with the sheer embarrassment of it all. "Like that." Someone without superhuman hearing would probably have missed the tiny hitch in Lex's breathing. But Clark heard it. And that was - God, that was unbelievably hot. "So. What do you think about? When you - you know. When you. Touch. Yourself." There was a pregnant pause, and Clark could hear how quickly Lex's heart was beating. Because of him.

"I - I think I should probably be going now, before you make me say something we'll both regret," Lex said very carefully. "I'm on my way to a party, where everyone will be safely over the age of consent and where I plan on doing more than just fantasizing about sex; and it's several hours' drive away, so really I shouldn't be wasting any more time." That stung. But 'safely over the age of consent' suggested that he was thinking about - oh. OH. "I just dropped in to say 'Hi'. See how you were getting by without Ryan. But I can see you're, ah, handling - it - very well." The dry inflection was not lost on Clark. It made him shiver.

And Lex was getting to his feet with a decisive creak of leather; and the thought of all that leather wrapped around Lex's skin was doing weird things to Clark's insides, and his cock felt even harder than it had done before and he had to stop playing safe some time and actually do something before Lex just walked away and he'd missed his chance, the way he always managed to miss his chance; and he was absolutely terrified of screwing this up, but if he didn't ask then he wouldn't know and Lex was going to leave now if he didn't say something and it was Lex and so -

"I was thinking about you," said Clark, still staring fixedly at his own knees. And heard Lex freeze.

Oh. My. God.

Had he really just said that? Out loud? Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Clark held his breath and heard Lex sink slowly back down onto the couch.

"You were thinking about - well." Clark risked another glance at Lex, who at least wasn't running away, and the expression on Lex's face took his breath away. Wow. Wow. And he'd been trying very hard not to look at Lex's crotch, but he couldn't help it, and the black leather wasn't exactly good at concealing the fact that Lex was all kinds of happy to see him right now. "Really just full of surprises," repeated Lex. He seemed to be having some difficulty breathing and he looked oddly defenceless; and it struck Clark that Lex really wasn't all that old himself.

Seize the day. Right. Or seize - well, seize something.

And, astonishingly, it turned out to be the easiest thing in the world to close one large hand over Lex's leather-wrapped thigh and just lean in and kiss him. At first Lex didn't move at all and didn't make any attempt to kiss back; and Clark felt a tidal wave of fresh humiliation rushing towards him at having so completely misjudged the situation. Before he could start to pull away and look into meteor-rock-assisted ways of committing ritual suicide, however, Lex's mouth opened under him and swallowed him whole, teeth tapping against his teeth and tongue tangling around his tongue; and Lex's fingers locked in his hair and pulled him closer; and Lex was squirming under him like the best thing ever. Bump of nose against nose and this wasn't anything like kissing Lana or Chloe or any of the other meteor-prompted kisses he'd experienced to date. This was something else altogether. Molten. Fierce. Possessive. Lex.

Lex tasted like coffee and something else less familiar; and there was nothing soft or sweet about his mouth. Shit, Clark hoped he was doing this right. He hadn't quite figured out what qualified as being a good kisser but - oh. Wow. It seemed like Lex had had enough practice for both of them; and it turned out that the nerve endings inside Clark's mouth and on his tongue were directly wired up to the ones in his cock, because every suck and lick and bite was making him harder and wetter and - wow. He'd had no idea that kisses could be so dirty. That was really the only word. Dirty. In a really, really good way.

Clark already knew the contours of Lex's body through clothes nearly as well as he knew his own, but this time there was no life-saving going on. This time he was touching Lex simply because he was touching Lex; and Lex's hands were everywhere, sliding over skin and slipping under the tight white T shirt to scratch and pinch and twist in ways that Clark hadn't known to dream about. Clark had to keep reminding himself to be gentle, be gentle, be gentle, because if he really let go right now he was liable to break Lex in two. A quick scramble of leather-clad limbs and skin against skin and then they were horizontal, with legs tangled awkwardly, and Clark could feel Lex's erection through the leather and the denim. Lex was shaking against him and realised, after a befuddled moment, that it was at least partly with laughter.

"Do you have any - idea - how long I've been - wanting to do this?" Lex asked between kisses. "Jesus, Clark. Where did you get this T shirt? You look like - fuck, yes. Do that again."

The lipstick was all over Lex's mouth now, and smudges of red stained his cheekbone and the tip of his nose. Clark found this evidence of his own kisses almost unbearably arousing. He couldn't believe how easy this was. "How long?"

Lex laughed against him and squeezed the bulging denim. "Christ, Clark. Always. Always. Now shut up and kiss me again, before I remember what a very, very bad idea this is."


	2. The Man Who Fell To Earth

There were too many layers of clothing. Other layers separating them too, but it looked like they were both ignoring them for now, and that was just fine. More than fine. Clark reminded himself again to be careful, and tried not to tear Lex's clothes right off his back - even though he was pretty damned sure that Lex wouldn't actually mind. His fingers skated under the long sleeved top and the surface of Lex's skin against his palm and his whorled finger tips was so damned smooth and cool and soft that it was simply criminal that Clark hadn't been able to do this before. Clark never wanted to have to stop touching Lex. Mouth on his mouth and hands tugging at his hair and Lex was undoing his jeans and putting his hand inside and - Oh. Jesus. His erection was free again, but this time it was Lex's hand wrapped around it and -

"I'm going to come," Clark said, words spilling over one another at the excruciating pleasure of Lex's fingers wrapped around his skin. Once his brain was working again, he was going to feel pretty lame about coming so damned fast, but right now - Jesus, it was Lex.

"Hey!" Lex was still laughing and he sounded anything but pissed. "Take it easy, Clark. " Cool fingers curled themselves around the base of his cock and pinched hard, but the pressure was nothing like enough. Obviously. Still, it was a good idea; Clark dipped his own fingers down to shift Lex's hand and squeezed himself hard enough to make a difference. There was a momentary pause, and Clark's whole body was shaking. Lex curled quietly down over him, radiating unbridled smugness, and sucked Clark's lower lip hard into his mouth, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood from anyone else. "That's better. Don't waste it. Wouldn't you rather come inside me?"

"I - Lex! I - God, Lex!"

"What do you want, Clark? My mouth? My ass?" Clark heard himself groan as his imagination promptly provided technicolor images to accompany Lex's words. His mouth watered. "Whatever you want, Clark. But you're going to have to ask." Which was just - damn it, couldn't Lex just go ahead and do it all? Without Clark having to actually say the words? "Tell me." Lex was straddling Clark's thighs and rocking very slightly so that Clark could feel Lex's cock rubbing his legs through the leather, but Lex wasn't actually touching Clark's leaking erection at all. Clark clamped his fingers around the base again and stared up into the familiar blue eyes imploringly. Lex, he realised, was really enjoying making him squirm.

"Everything. I want - I want everything."

"You can do better than that, Clark. Tell me," Lex licked the tip of his index finger and Clark watched the wet flash of tongue, mesmerised, "What I should do," and Lex sucked his own finger hard, cheeks suddenly concave at the pressure, "With your cock." And then the finger was popping out with a ridiculous wet sound and Lex was dropping it down to rest on the beaded slit of Clark's reddened cock with a suddenness that almost made Clark shout.

"Suck it." The words were out before he even knew he'd had the thought. "Please, Lex. Suck it."

And these, it turned out, were the magic words. Lex wriggled down to the end of the couch, tugging Clark's jeans further down his thighs in the process, and then he knelt over Clark and brought his face down towards the erection, just the way he did in Clark's fantasies night after night. And if this were all a dream, then Clark never, ever wanted to wake up again. Clark couldn't take his eyes off Lex and he found that his whole body was shaking as the familiar lips puckered up and - and rather than touching his skin, Lex blew into the tangle of dark curls. The cool brush of air over his tight skin was wholly unexpected and utterly frustrating, and Clark had a sudden urge to just grab Lex's bare scalp and impale the moist mouth on his dick.

"Lex," he said aloud, surprised to hear something like a threat trembling in his voice. "Suck my cock. Now."

Lex glanced up at him with an almost mischievous expression, and then licked a long, wet line up the underside of Clark's penis, making it jerk urgently under his tongue until his lips opened over the head and Clark finally felt himself slide into the wet and welcoming mouth. And this was - God! - it was so much better than the feel of his own hand that Clark could only wriggle and gasp and bite his knuckles to keep from yelling loud enough to be heard in Metropolis. Hot, slick slither of flexible flesh against him - Lex's tongue was sliding over Clark's skin like it was coated in sugar and he was going to come in Lex's mouth. God. Fuck.

Clark had never felt so downright filthy in his life. And it wasn't as tight as his own clenched fist was - couldn't be, no superstrength in Lex's jaws, but, but - tight and hot and wet and moving and - Lex. Lex sucking his cock with the most obscene slurping noises Clark had ever heard or imagined. All the other nerve endings in his body were drifting off to sleep on the job, while every taut inch of blushing skin on his cock was sending surges of sheer fucking delight straight up his spine. He was seeing stars. Clark could die happy, because incredibly, against all expectations, Lex really was here in the Fortress of Solitude sucking his cock. And loving it.

Clark's back arched as Lex slipped one slick finger under him and wriggled it into the cleft of his ass, and when it slid inside the tightly furled hole he groaned out loud - something gutteral and incoherent torn from deep inside his chest. Clark's fingers closed over the sides of the couch and he felt the wood splintering under him, but - Christ almighty! He'd had no idea that that would feel so good! And now he knew for certain that he wanted more than Lex's finger inside him, and as soon as possible; but when Clark peered drunkenly down through mascara-thickened lashes and found Lex looking up at him with his lipstick-smudged mouth stretched wide around Clark's cock Clark's sluggish brain fused entirely and he came down Lex's throat right then and there.

Clark's eyes were welded shut as he felt Lex's lips slide off his deflating cock. He couldn't quite remember how to open them. Or how to breathe. Or think. Or generally - oh. Lex was dropping a kiss on his cock. Kind of, what was the word? Chastely, almost; like a little goodbye kiss you might give your mom. And Clark really, really didn't need to be thinking about his mom right now. Happily the pressure of Lex's leather-clad body against him was still a pretty good distraction from thoughts like that.

He opened his eyes as Lex leaned over him, his face just where Clark expected it to be. Clark beamed.

"I'm not a virgin," he announced unnecessarily. Lex grinned.

"I know. I was there."

"Yes." Witty retorts were not one of Clark's strong points, but Lex didn't seem to mind. He had the most extraordinary expression on his face; something naked and hungry and dangerous, but still oddly - breakable. Very, very hot. Clark reached out and rubbed the red smudges from Lex's swollen mouth with the heel of his thumb and Lex briefly closed his eyes on a sudden hiss of indrawn breath.

"Clark - Jesus Christ, Clark!" He stared back down at Clark. "You're just - I've never seen anyone look so - so totally pornographic in my life. And if you knew what - well." He was almost laughing. "You're incredible. Take your shirt off for me?"

Clark could do that. He was feeling kind of lazy, but open and easy and more relaxed than he could remember having felt in forever. He should probably feel a little bashful about peeling off his shirt, but under the circumstances that would be dumb. Lex, he reflected smugly, very clearly did like him, big geek or not. Heh. It only struck Clark belatedly, as he tugged the tight fabric up over his head, that Lex still hadn't come. Shit. Talk about self-involved.

"Do you want me to - ah, I could - suck your cock?" Clark was starting to get the hang of saying that word out loud, but it still sent a thrill of illicit wickedness through him. Cocksucking. Not the sort of word he could use around the kitchen table. ('So what did you get up to last night, son?' 'Oh, nothing much, Dad. Just stuff. Hung out in the barn, put on some makeup, did a little cocksucking. With Lex.')

"Clark, why are you laughing?" And then suddenly Clark wasn't laughing at all, because Lex was looking at him like that; and then there was a whole lot of Lex wrapped round him again, pressed up against his bare chest, knees pressing into Clark's sides and hands framing his face as Lex's mouth came down on his parted lips. He could taste himself on Lex's tongue, which should probably be kind of gross, but really wasn't. Clark was definitely starting to get the hang of kissing. In fact he could probably teach Pete a thing or two by now - and oh, god, his brain really shouldn't have gone to that place.

He had never felt so perfectly at home in his own skin; for once he wasn't self-conscious about being too gawky or clumsy or weird, because Lex wasn't looking at him like he was gawky or clumsy or weird. Not at all. And he certainly wasn't kissing him like he thought Clark was gawky or clumsy or weird; Lex was kissing him like his life depended on it and running urgent fingers over Clark as thought the meaning of the universe were inscribed on his body in braille. Sex wasn't at all how Clark had expected it to be; it was kind of ridiculous, when you got right down to it, but it felt - he caught his breath as Lex pinched one tight nipple and Clark's grasp of vocabulary promptly dissolved. Wow. It felt - good. Very, very good.

He couldn't believe this had really been there all along, trembling under the surface of their friendship - and Clark had been convinced that it was just a figment of his fevered imagination. But Lex wanted him. Lex was hard for him. Clark was spent, but the friction against his belly was making his cock twitch in sympathy. He closed his hands around the leather and ground Lex down onto him a little harder than he'd intended; and Lex made a sound so thoroughly un-Lex-like that Clark laughed into the kiss and felt Lex's mouth vibrating from his laughter; and it was amazing how much of a turn on even this was. He was making Lex Luthor tremble. Clark was always acutely aware of his own physical strength in comparison to - well, pretty much everybody; but he wasn't at all used to this kind of power. Especially over Lex.

It was addictive.

He sucked Lex's tongue into his mouth and started consciously practicing his blowjob technique on it, with the gratifying result that Lex dropped any attempt at self control and started to hump his thighs in earnest. Clark's sudden smile pressed the muscles of his jaw against the smooth surface of Lex's face. "Hey," he said, in a voice that didn't sound much like his own. "Take it easy. Wouldn't you rather come inside me?" After an astonished moment of stillness he felt Lex's whole body shaking with startled laughter at the sound of his own words being thrown back at him.

"Why you..." Lex bit the edge of Clark's chin, his breathing more ragged than Clark had heard it. "They just don't make blushing virgins like they used to."

"You should write a letter of complaint."

"I might do that. Fuck. Just - come here, Clark." There was Lex's mouth on his again, and he'd really missed it; and any minute now he was going to suck Lex Luthor's cock, which really would put paid to any lingering claims he might have to heterosexuality.

And this was just fine with Clark Kent.

Kissing Lex Luthor was Clark's new favourite hobby. Astronomy really didn't stand a chance. There were definitely too many items of clothing wrapped around Lex; and really, there shouldn't be anything wrapped around Lex right now but Clark. He hooked his fingers under the hem of Lex's shirt, knuckles grazing the taut skin of his belly, and tugged it upwards. Not even Lex could look cool and collected with his face hidden by the uplifted fabric and his arms raised in awkward assistance; but it was astonishing how many improbable things Clark was finding sexy right now. It wasn't just the sudden revelation of lickably smooth torso, although God knows the sight of Lex's bare chest was reviving his cock; but there was something unexpectedly hot about the sheer ordinariness of the gesture. On impulse Clark sat up and leaned forward, pushing Lex back onto the couch almost too quickly and grinning at the smothered sound Lex made under him. A little judicious wriggling and Clark was well and truly on top. Lex's face emerged from the dark slither of designer shirt just in time for Clark to find his mouth again and stifle whatever words were on the brink of being uttered. Clark closed one hand over Lex's still-muffled wrists and pinned the upraised arms to the couch as he ground his hips forward and sank into another greedy kiss.

The contours of Lex's palate and the edges of his teeth were fast becoming as familiar to Clark's questing tongue as the inside of his own mouth; and this was more like it, Lex's bare chest welded to his own and the firm nipples sliding against his skin. Clark shifted slightly and let his other hand wander southwards to pop open the button of Lex's fly. He slid the zipper down and carefully free Lex's erection. Weird: like touching himself, but not. He pulled his face back, missing Lex's mouth the instant his lips left it but still wanting to look as well as touch. The warm curve of solid flesh pulsing in his hand felt absolutely right and proper, and it looked quite different - no hair, no foreskin - but also very familiar. And, dear God, the expression on Lex's face was too hot for words, pupils dilated and mouth soft; and Lex's hips were bucking desperately, his wet cock fucking Clark's tight grip too urgently for a proper rhythm.

Clark released his grip on Lex's wrists with some reluctance and slid down the couch, dragging his tongue over Lex's chest and pausing to bite the first nipple his lips found on the way down. Clean skin, slightly scented by some expensive shower gel or other - and oh, God, at some point he was going to have to have fuck Lex in the shower now that he'd had that thought - and then his lips found the surface of the erection. Clark heard Lex make a strangled groan above him as he swiped his tongue curiously over the head of Lex's cock, tasting something like his own taste but subtly different; and then Lex was saying his name over and over and his untangled hands came down on him, one cupping Clark's shoulder and the other buried in his hair. Clark grinned as he rubbed his mouth against the soft skin, feeling it brush wetly against the indent of his upper lip and bump against his nose and cheek. He licked it like some sort of outsize popsicle, keeping a gentle hold on the base, and then Clark stretched his mouth wide and slid his face down onto Lex's cock.

Clark's parents had taught him the importance of manners, and surely one good blow job deserved another. He couldn't exactly recall any instance of his father actually expressing this sentiment in so many words, but it seemed only courteous.

It was kind of uncomfortable at first, to have his mouth so tightly filled up - but in a good way. He had Lex's cock in his mouth; and the terrible thing was that he couldn't possibly tell anyone how exciting this was; how delicious it felt to be doing something that was supposed to be so dirty; how smooth Lex's flat belly was against his face; how good he tasted. This was the most amazing evening of Clark's life, and he couldn't tell anybody about it the next day. He was making this up as he went along, sloppy strokes of his tongue over the warm skin moving in a way that he thought he would like himself; and he could tell it was working. The fingers of one hand were spread over Lex's stomach while the other hand held Lex's balls, stroking them and squeezing them like they were a brand new toy. The helpless sounds that Lex was making now had Clark rock hard all over again; and it turned out that his superpowers had applications beyond getting to school on time and being able to help out around the farm, because Clark was really very, very good at this. He was being careful not to suck too hard or to move his tongue too impossibly fast, but still the result had Lex thrashing desperately under him.

Clark hadn't expected to feel so - powerful. But he really did. He had Lex pinned between the roof of his mouth and the shifting surface of his tongue and he could feel Lex respond to every tiny movement; and it was unbelievably exhilarating to be in control like this. On an impulse he tried humming something, and the enthusiasm with which Lex responded to the vibration spoke volumes. This was quite the evening for discovering new hobbies. Clark was never going to be able to look at his telescope without blushing.

When Lex came he was making sounds that would have been funny in any other circumstances - helpless, guttural grunts and gasps interspersed with Clark's name uttered in a voice that would have given a shop mannequin a raging erection. A female shop mannequin. Clark swallowed convulsively and realised that he was grinning around Lex's cock; and the grin didn't seem to want to go away. He waited a few moments, feeling the tremors run through the body splayed under him and then pulled away, letting Lex slide free with a messy sound. Clark cupped the softening prick affectionately in one hand as he kissed his way back up towards Lex's face. There was already a trail of lipstick across Lex's torso and it gave Clark an odd little thrill to have marked Lex, even so fleetingly.

"Jesus, Clark." Lex sounded stunned. Clark licked his collarbone and nipped at the curve of one white shoulder as he traced a path back to Lex's mouth. "That was - Jesus. You're sure you haven't been blowing the football team all these months?" Clark hit him. Gently. Lex was laughing. He really should do that more often. "Sorry, I just - you're a fast learner, Clark Kent."

"I've been thinking about this. A lot." Too forceful, the way he'd said it - too much like a declaration, heart on his sleeve; and that was ridiculous, because they'd just done all this and so it was pretty obvious that he'd been thinking about it a lot. But Lex looked troubled. Clark's mouth came down on the parted lips before any words about friendship or legality could be uttered, rubbing up against him like an oversized cat so Lex could feel the line of Clark's burgeoning erection pressing into his thigh until a hand closed possessively around the back of his neck.

"You're hard? Already?" Lex's fingers slid from the curve of his ass towards his swelling cock and Clark groaned into Lex's skin. He never wanted this to stop. "What are you, Clark, the Energizer Bunny?"

Clark discovered that it was still possible for him to blush. "Lex - teenage boy, remember?" Then a heartbeat later he was wishing he'd kept quiet, because he felt Lex grow still under him; and even through the haze of lust Clark could suddenly hear alarm bells ringing. He tilted his head enough to look at Lex and saw the blue eyes narrowing slightly, saw the beginnings of damage limitation sliding into place. Clark couldn't bear this to be a one-time-only deal.

"Yes. Yes - I remember." He was still holding Clark's cock, but the movement of his hand grew perfunctory, like stroking a pet. Clark really didn't like the shuttered look on Lex's face. He kissed the corner of Lex's mouth and sucked the soft bottom lip urgently, thrusting his hips against Lex again. "This is a bad idea, Clark," said Lex doggedly, after long, breathless minutes of silent kissing. "It's a really - a really bad idea. For lots of reasons." Clark fleetingly considered mentioning bolting horses and the tardy closure of stable doors, but instead pinned him down and cut off any further words by sucking Lex's tongue into his mouth. He wasn't going to let Lex push him away now - and God, that would be just like Lex. Not how Lex normally was with Clark, true, but with people who weren't Clark, people like Victoria - well. He remembered the look on Lex's face when he talked about Victoria, and Clark experienced a sudden lurch of uncertainty about all this. Lex seemed pretty cynical about the people he slept with. And now Clark was one of them. There was so much he didn't know about Lex, and about how relationships were supposed to work; but he knew that he wanted this. More than this. And he wasn't going to let Lex talk himself out of it. He poured his whole heart into kissing Lex Luthor until he felt Lex become liquid and yielding beneath him once more.

"Lex?" he said, some time later.

"Mmm?" Lex looked slightly dazed. Remnants of crimson stained his skin. Clark was falling in love with Lex's mouth.

"Can I - you said I could come inside you. I want to - can I - " Now this was stupid. Of course he could say the words. "Can I fuck you?"

Lex's mouth twisted into a grin. "Jesus - listen to yourself, Clark. I am a bad, bad man." He was breathing too fast. "Yes. Christ, yes. Just let me - just wait a minute, okay?" He wriggled out from under Clark and perched on the edge of the couch to tug the leather pants off properly. Clark ran shaky fingers over the smooth curve of Lex's back and noticed, with real surprise, that the fair skin was liberally sprinkled with freckles. He dropped a clumsy kiss on the nearest bit of flesh and then hurriedly peeled his own shrugged-down jeans off all the way. Really undressed now. Undressed in the Fortress of Solitude, and this was a first. Like kissing a guy was a first. Like sucking somebody's cock was a first. If that guy from America's Funniest Home Videos was filming all this, they must have looked pretty dumb just now, writhing around with their pants round their ankles; although as it turned out Clark found this image hot rather than ridiculous. Huh. He looked back at Lex, who was wonderfully naked, and Clark's breath caught in his throat at the sight of all that skin. Wow. And to think all he'd had to do was ask.

Clark should have done this months ago.

Lex produced a little foil square from one leather pocket and was visibly struck by a thought. "Clark - your parents - I'm assuming that your parents aren't going to be coming back any time soon? No lights on in the farm and no truck in the drive - they are out, aren't they?"

Clark dragged his eyes back up to Lex's face. "Won't be back for at least another hour," he said. Which was an impressively coherent sentence, since what he was actually thinking was essentially: 'Naked! Skin!' Clark's own skin felt oddly bereft without Lex welded up against it; but being far enough away to actually look at Lex without his customary armour of expensive tailoring was a pretty good compensation. Sharp hipbones and unexpected curve of muscles - Lex was lean, but there was nothing weak about him. Clark's gaze flickered back down to the softened flesh of Lex's penis lying quietly against one smooth thigh and he wanted to kiss it. He didn't consciously realise he was stroking himself until he saw Lex's gaze travel to his crotch, and then Clark felt himself blushing again. But he didn't stop.

"Good. That's good." There was still something dark in Lex's eyes and Clark had the disquieting sense that Lex was thinking about other things, things that Clark should be worrying about. "Come here. Have you ever - ? No, I guess not." He was smiling, and it was amazing how Lex could make all this seem so normal. So okay, in a way that Clark couldn't imagine ever feeling with Chloe or Lana or anybody else. When Lex's hand closed over his own he made a small, startled noise and Lex leaned in and kissed him quickly - an urgent little clash of teeth and tongue and suction while Lex's fingers laced themselves with his own around his cock and Clark moaned into the kiss like some kind of porn star. If sex was like this, Clark couldn't understand how anyone ever got out of bed to go to work. Ever.

Then Lex's hand was gone. "It's never too early to learn good habits," Lex said. There was the sound of foil being torn and Clark shuddered again when Lex ran his thumb over the sticky head of Clark's erection and brought the little circle of rubber down over it. He held it there for a moment, pinching the little rubber teat before unrolling the condom in a practiced motion that made Clark gasp. He closed his eyes and pinched himself hard, because there was no damn way he was going to come too quickly and miss the chance of fucking Lex.

He was going to fuck Lex. Dear God.

When he opened his eyes Lex was sprawling back on the couch, looking for all the world like he was in his own bedroom in the castle. Completely unselfconscious, legs drawn up and thighs sprawling wide in invitation. He had a little tube of something and was rubbing the stuff around the tight little pucker which looked way too small to accommodate any part of Clark. Clark just stared, slack jawed, and watched one finger slide inside, smearing the lubrication around while Lex looked watched his face. Smiling the sort of smile that could start a forest fire. Jesus. Lex dropped the tube onto his belly, leaned back with his hands behind the bare curve of his scalp, and waited. Clark's cock was stiff against his belly and he was suddenly scared witless of doing this wrong. And - oh, shit, he hadn't even considered this before, but what if he hurt Lex? That was all too possible, because when he wasn't careful things had a way of getting broken. Shit. Shit. Clark's eyes flew from Lex's parted legs up to his face and enough of this fear must have been written on his features for Lex to read, because he lost the expression of - what? Sensuality? Distance? Challenge? He lost the not-Clark's-Lex expression which was both sexy and a little frightening and suddenly he was just Lex again, disarmed and rueful and reaching out to touch Clark like Clark was something fragile.

"Clark, it's okay. Come here." Clark collapsed onto him, twitching when his rubber-wrapped erection brushed against Lex's bare limbs.

"I don't want to hurt you," he explained awkwardly, trying to ignore his penis without very much success. His penis frankly didn't give a damn about whether or not he hurt Lex.

Lex made a broken sound, and when he spoke his voice had a wild edge to it. "Jesus, Clark. You're so fucking sweet." He was smiling, but he sounded almost angry. "I shouldn't be doing this. I really, really shouldn't be doing this."

"If you don't want to," Clark began, suddenly uncertain, only to have his sentence swallowed by a kiss.

"Clark, I have been jerking off to the thought of this ever since I first set eyes on you." His fingers closed around Clark's cock in a grip that should perhaps have been painful. "Don't you have any mirrors in that farmhouse? Just - just look at you. But I forget how damned young you are half the time. Christ. I feel like Humbert Humbert."

Clark didn't bother asking who the hell that was. "How old were you when you first had sex?" Lex's expression betrayed him, and the hand on Clark's cock began to move almost automatically.

"That's not the point." He didn't sound so certain.

"Yes, I think it is. I'm old enough, Lex. It's just - I'm a lot stronger than you are. A lot. I don't want to hurt you, but I really, really want to fuck you. Now." He ground his hips forward for emphasis and heard Lex's breath catch. Clark's mastery of four letter words was coming on in leaps and bounds.

"You can't hurt me, Clark. I'm a Luthor. We're invulnerable." There it was again, damn it - that bitterness wrapped in a smile. Clark really hated it when Lex did that.

"Stop it." He shoved Lex deeper into the couch, straddling his hips and pinning the narrow wrists back into the armrest with one hand, and kissed him angrily. He could feel Lex's cock stirring, trapped between their bodies along with his own erection. "Just - stop it, Lex. You don't have to be like that with me. Do you want this?"

"I -"

"Yes or no?" And Clark really didn't know when he'd become so confident, but it just killed him when Lex tried to cut himself off like this. This was a really, really dumb time to be getting an attack of compunction about the age thing; and Clark couldn't help noticing that Lex hadn't worried about it so damn much when he was the one with the erection.

"Yes."

"Good. But just - can we do this so I won't hurt you if I get, you know, carried away? 'Cause I'm a lot stronger than you, Lex." Clark Kent, master of understatement. He followed up the question with another kiss and felt Lex's objections dissolving under his tongue.

"Does this make me Patroclus?" There was a smile in Lex's voice.

"What?"

"Achilles was the strongest of the Greeks - magically invulnerable except for - "

"Lex?"

"Mmm?" Lex's fingers traced the outline of Clark's mouth and he was moving his hips in a deliberate way that was systematically destroying Clark's higher brain functions.

"Not a good time for a history lesson."

"No. Right. Well, Achilles and Patroclus probably aren't ideal role models anyway. Even though Achilles disguised himself as a girl, and you're presently wearing more makeup than Liz Taylor. Why exactly did Chloe put this lipstick on you, again?"

"Lex, I'm starting to think hurting you might be - a good - idea," said Clark with feeling, between kisses.

"I'd let you." That came out too quickly and too certainly to be anything but the truth; and it was - scary. And hot. And too much responsibility. And Clark's cock was running out of patience entirely, so he decided to improvise. Lex looked surprised to find himself hauled bodily off the couch and moved until he was sitting on top of Clark.

"How did -"

"Stronger than you. Farm work. Will this work, Lex?"

Lex heard the pleading note in his voice and relented. "Yes - if you want it like this, we'll do it like this. But you don't need to worry about hurting me." Lex leaned down to kiss him and then there were fingers guiding his erection up against slippery flesh and every part of Clark was frantically clenched. He could hear himself making small, desperate sounds as Lex rubbed against him, and he could feel the little opening flexing against the head of his cock - and surely it wasn't possible to get inside Lex like this, too small and tight and - dear God, stretching around him now. He stared stupidly up at Lex, all pale angles and curves and coiled energy wrapped around Clark and sliding slowly down onto his erection with an expression of pure, lascivious surrender that was going to be in Clark's dream from now on out.

...in. He was inside Lex.

And then Lex was jammed right down onto him, muscles clutching tight as Lex moved slowly - too tortuously slowly - and the blue eyes were heavy lidded, pupils dilated - and the look on his face, dear God in heaven - then faster, and Lex's cock was halfway to being hard too; and Clark was fucking Lex, stark naked in the Fortress of Solitude with Lex wrapped round him like a glove, and gasping with every thrust, and uttering his name like a prayer; and this was so much better than his fantasies that there were no words left, none at all, only "Yes" and "Lex" torn out of him again and again in a voice he barely recognised as his own, raw and desperate and utterly, utterly naked.

When he came Clark actually levitated right off the couch - only an inch or two and only for a moment, but there was suddenly empty air beneath his skin and the shock of realisation brought him crashing back down an instant later. Shit. He blinked up at Lex, scrabbling for a coherent thought, and then gave up. Coherent thoughts could wait a few minutes.

After a little while Lex pulled slowly away and Clark experienced an odd sense of loss as he reluctantly slid out. Lex winced slightly and Clark was suddenly very alert.

"Did I hurt you?" He hadn't dared touch Lex; he'd had his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nails pressing little half moon indentations into his palms out of fear that if he clasped the delicate curve of Lex's human hip his fingers would crush right through to the bone. He'd been trying so hard, but maybe -?

"No. God, Clark, no." Affection warring with exasperation in Lex's voice, but his expression was enough to melt the ice caps. "What am I going to do with you, Clark Kent?" And that wasn't exasperation or affection - it was something more like tenderness.

Clark pulled Lex down into an awkward embrace, and for a few moments they jostled for space on the couch, limbs negotiating for room until they achieved a tangled comfort. Clark wrapped himself around Lex like a blanket and pressed a kiss into the nape of his neck. "This. Lots more of this. Please," Clark replied at last, closing his fingers possessively around Lex's warm cock. He felt Lex's body twitch with reluctant laughter.

"I think we can manage that."

"Good."

"Only, next time, maybe somewhere more private?"

"Hmm." Clark stroked idle circles onto the curve of Lex's hip. "I wish we knew someone with a big castle full of empty rooms." Lex was laughing out loud now, and it was the most unguarded laughter he'd ever heard. Clark couldn't stop smiling. Lex should laugh more often.

"Irony? When did you pick up irony?"

"I'm a fast learner." He pulled Lex closer, the sharp line of his spine pressing into Clark's chest like it was designed to go there. He nuzzled the bump in the back of Lex's skull and when Lex turned his head slightly Clark kissed the corner of his ear.

"Yes. So I've noticed. You know, Clark, I have a feeling I'm going to be needing a lot of produce delivered tomorrow."

Clark grinned. "I kind of hoped you might say that."


End file.
